


Dressing Right

by blakefancier, Willa Shakespeare (AnonEhouse)



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Crack, Crossdressing, F/M, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-04
Updated: 2012-10-04
Packaged: 2017-11-15 16:03:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/529029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blakefancier/pseuds/blakefancier, https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonEhouse/pseuds/Willa%20Shakespeare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This began as an RPG with Blakefancier on LJ (in 2004 IIRC). My Partner In Crime was the Blake bits. I adapted & garnished it and it was published in Fire and Ice 9.</p><p>Avon crossdresses so he and Blake can attend a couples' ball undercover. They discover that they quite enjoy themselves. There is actual nookie in this story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dressing Right

(If you are reading this on any PAY site this is a STOLEN WORK, the author has NOT Given Permission for it to be here. If you're paying to read it, you're being cheated too because you can read it on Archiveofourown for FREE.)

Avon glared at Blake, then returned to his preparations, staring fixedly into the mirror, trying to ignore the view of Blake pacing in the background. Because Blake's room was closer to the teleport, they had chosen to dress here, hoping to keep the others from finding out about this mission. Refusing to admit to embarrassment, Avon had left the door open whilst he showered and shaved, including his armpits and legs. Blake had finished an hour ago, and was watching Avon with every appearance of impatience. Avon snapped,"It's not as easy as it looks!"

Blake replied, "How difficult can it be? It's not as though you haven't had practice."

Avon gave Blake a filthy look. "I wasn't attempting to disguise my masculinity at the time." He applied concealer over his cheeks and chin and throat. _A bit of plucking...ow...Iridescent eyeliner - what shade?_ Avon glanced at the midnight blue dress flung across the bed and opted for plum. He'd already fluffed his hair and given it enough styling spray to hold. A trace of rouge along his cheekbones, lip-liner and _... what the hell..._ cherry red lipstick. Avon sprayed himself with a floral perfume and reached for the undergarments that went with the dress.

"That shade is too bright for you. The lipstick makes you look like a whore," Blake stated, stopping Avon in mid-reach.

"We're attending a couples ball given by Servalan. Whores would fit right in," Avon grumbled as he wiped off the lipstick. "All right, be the fashion arbiter, which do you choose?"

"Your skin tone is too light for a bright red. You want something more subtle, with a bit more pink to it. A rose colour perhaps?" Blake sounded serious.

"Fine." Avon picked up a mid-shade rose lipstick with a hint of purple, just enough to keep it from being the same colour as the decorations on a little girl's birthday cake, and applied it. "Better?" He blotted his lips and turned to Blake.

Blake nodded. "Much better. I refuse to go to a party with someone who looks like a whore." He grinned. "I prefer ladies."

Avon raised one plucked eyebrow. "Do you?" He put on the padded black lace brassiere and adjusted the straps, then squirmed into the combination girdle and garter belt and began working the black silk stockings onto his legs. "This had better be worth it."

Blake watched, lips slightly parted, as Avon smoothed the stockings over his legs. "Oh, it is."

Avon ignored Blake's teasing with an effort. _Blake is irredeemably straight. Any man who can ignore my leathers is obviously not inclined to think about men sexually._ Avon walked over to the dress and got into it, carefully working his arms into the silk-lined sleeves, and then puffed up the black over-gauze that disguised his breadth of shoulder and muscular arms. Avon reached around to fasten the row of tiny buttons going from neck to waist down his back, then stopped. "Blake, can you do these for me? I'm afraid I'll break one of my nails." He gazed in annoyance at the short-for-a-woman false nails, painted a demure shade of peach. 

"Yes, all right." Blake stood behind Avon, and started with the buttons at his waist. Avon tensed, feeling ridiculously vulnerable with Blake so intimately close; his fingers grazing Avon's skin with each button. "There," Blake said, as he stepped away a little too abruptly for someone who was as comfortable with the situation as he appeared.

"Thanks." Avon glanced at Blake. _He appears a bit flushed. Probably a result of that heavy brocade dress jacket and the tight collar on that silk shirt. Uncomfortable, but very flattering..._ Avon looked away quickly, and fastened a black velvet choker around his neck, centering the cameo over his adam's apple. Then he stepped into the shoes, mercifully flats, but with diamond buckles-- _perhaps Blake won't notice if they don't find their way back into the treasure room. Ah. The last step._ Avon gritted his teeth and returned to the mirror to pin on a small black hat tilted at a rakish angle, with a froth of lace subtly shielding his eyes and nose. Avon turned to Blake, feeling incredibly foolish. "Well?"

Blake looked him over very slowly and thoroughly before saying, "You look beautiful. Shall we?" He offered Avon his arm, in a gesture which seemed instinctive, annoying Avon at the same time that it reassured him as to the realism of his disguise. 

"You don't have to play your part yet." Avon strode to the door in a rustle of swirling skirts, then stopped. "Would you mind..." He gestured at the door. "I would rather Vila not see me."

Blake smiled. "Of course." He stepped out into the corridor and looked in both directions. "It's clear. No one will see how lovely you look in that dress."

"That's good. For them." With an effort of will, Avon smiled and left the room. "I refuse to speak in falsetto, Blake, so you'll have to do all the talking. Tell them I'm mute, or pathologically shy; I don't care what excuse you give." He headed for the teleport as quickly as he could go, hindered as he was by his encumbrances, one hand to his head to hold the hat in place.

Blake walked behind Avon instead of leading the way as usual. When Avon glanced back, puzzled, and saw Blake watching Avon's backside, Blake grinned and said, "Yes, dear."

Blake didn't often allow his sense of humour to show, but when he did, Avon had found there was no fighting it. Avon arrived at the teleport, picked up a bracelet and frowned. "I can't wear this at the party and there are no pockets in this frock. You'll have to carry mine for me." 

Blake snapped a teleport bracelet on his own wrist. "No purse?" He sighed. "Well, as long as you don't want me to carry your lipstick."

"Purses are passé this season." Avon paused, then continued, "It's a pity. I'd rather have some place else to put this." He lifted his skirt and tucked a laser probe under the top of his stocking on the inner thigh. He dropped the skirt and turned around. "Does anything show that shouldn't?"

Blake looked at Avon very briefly, then away as a hint of colour rose in his cheeks. "No, you look fine. Everything is where it should be."

Satisfied to have made the embarrassment mutual, Avon said, "Then I suppose I'm as ready as I'll ever be." He inserted Orac's key and took his place at the teleport. "Teleport us to the specified coordinates on Blake's order, Orac." Avon sighed and held out his hand. "Blake?"

Blake took Avon's hand. "Don't worry, Avon. I'll protect you."

"Wonderful," Avon said sourly. With his free hand, he tugged the lace further down around his face. "Blake, if I'm captured looking like this, I shall never forgive you."

Blake reached behind the lace and touched Avon's cheek. He said softly, "I won't let anyone capture you. Teleport now, Orac."

Mentally off balance again because of Blake, Avon was startled as the teleport took them. They materialized surrounded by meticulously clipped shrubbery. It was night, but lights on poles illuminated everything clearly. Orac had set them down in the centre of Servalan's garden maze. Voices were heard beyond the maze, laughing and talking, as guests arrived for the ball.

"Just in time." Blake looked around, checking for danger-- and for the exits. Then he looked at Avon again. "Blue is your colour, my dear. You should wear more often."

Avon opened his mouth in indignation, then shut it as he remembered that bushes weren't sound-proof. He stepped forward and rested a hand on Blake's arm demurely.

Blake grinned. "I'm going to enjoy this." They slowly made their way towards the mansion. "And I wasn't joking. Blue _is_ your colour."

Avon felt the heat rise in his cheeks. _Well, perhaps it will add an air of verisimilitude to the shyness story. Keeping my mouth shut around Blake is going to be the hardest part of all this._ As they approached the brightly lit entrance Avon tensed, digging his false fingernails into Blake's arm. _The idiot had better not have forgot the invitations!_

Blake hid a wince. "Don't worry, sweetness, I didn't forget the invitation." He smiled at the doorman and handed him the invitation. "She's a bit high-strung." He patted Avon on the arse.

Avon didn't quite snarl. Mentally he added another degree to the temperature to which he planned to reset Blake's cabin climate control on their return. He glanced up at the doorman through his eyelashes, trying to make himself appear shorter. 

The doorman ran the invitation through his verifier. The combination of Orac's data, Vila's talented fingers and Avon's computer expertise passed the test. He handed the invitation back to Blake with the admonition to keep it with him at all times. Then he stepped aside and let them enter Servalan's palace.

Blake's hand rested against the small of Avon's back as he led him into the palace, through the arch of the weapons' scanner and past the guards beyond the doorman. Servalan's tastelessness and extravagance were on display everywhere. He leaned over and whispered into Avon's ear, "Do you realize how many Deltas and Gammas must have starved because of this?"

Avon rolled his eyes and considered kicking Blake in the shins. Instead he tightened his grip on Blake's elbow and steered him towards the refreshment table. _Maybe filling Blake's mouth will keep him from annoying me...Filling Blake's mouth...no, don't you dare... there may be a more embarrassing place to get an erection, but hardly a more fatal one._ After a moment, Avon's cock resigned itself to temporary quiescence. _I had no idea how arousing the feel of women's undergarments could be. I should have put on my own y-fronts underneath._

Even distracted, Avon noticed the colour drain from Blake's face and he followed Blake's gaze to a tall, white-haired man in a black uniform. The man turned towards them. Blake pressed his face against Avon's neck, wrapping his arm around Avon's waist and pulling him close, in an intimate embrace.

Avon's instincts were muddled, and for a moment he thought Blake was attacking him, but the warm breath at his neck and the closeness to Blake reversed Avon's cock-quelling. Silently cursing himself, Avon pressed back against Blake even harder to hide the evidence, reaching around to clamp a hand on Blake's rump to keep him from moving away. Blake's teasing suddenly seemed very unimportant, unarmed and surrounded by Federation personnel as they were.

The white-haired man was hailed by an acquaintance and turned away from the refreshment table. Blake let out a sigh of relief and tried to move away. Avon held him more tightly, shoving his cock harder against Blake so he would realize Avon's problem. Blake looked startled, but quickly recovered. "I'm sorry, my dear, I couldn't help myself. You look lovely in this dress. If we're going to do more, we should move away from the refreshment table. We wouldn't want to get food on your dress."

Avon nodded, not quite understanding what Blake meant by 'do more', but grateful that Blake apparently had a plan, as his brain appeared to have packed up and left control to his crotch. _I knew I should have got laid on our last shore leave... but no one had appealed to me, obsessed as I currently am by curls, thumb-nibbling lips, and an abundance of cock, all on constant teasing display on the flight deck._

Blake positioned himself in front of Avon, hiding Avon's erection. Still locked in embrace he led Avon to a dark corner of the room, and pressed him back against the wall. He leant forward, nuzzling Avon's ear and whispered, "Think of the Federation or something equally appalling."

Avon turned his head and noticed an open door leading to a dimly lit room. He whispered, "Unfortunately, I always found danger... stimulating...perhaps a moment in private and I can convince myself I'm bored."

Blake groaned softly, " _Now_ , you tell me. You do realize that I have to go with you. It's too dangerous for us to separate. There's a better chance we'll get caught."

A tall, slender, young cadet in FSA uniform glanced over at them, and Avon tugged at Blake, aiming him at the open door. Avon whispered, "So long as you have my bracelet we're joined at the hip..." He winced at his unfortunate choice of words.

Blake nipped Avon's earlobe and whispered, "Don't worry. I told you that I would protect you."

Avon started edging toward the dark room, trying to ignore Blake's cheerful idiocy. _If Blake kept it up... hell...Blake was keeping it up, by his presence._ Avon's mind kept toying with double entendrés and the possibility of screwing Blake whilst claiming it was all in the line of duty. _Definitely it was not a good idea to go so long without proper relief._

Blake edged towards the room with Avon. He blew softly into Avon's ear and whispered, "What does it feel like? The stockings and dress... the lacy underthings?"

Avon bit his lip against a moan, and retaliated by running his hand hard down the crease between Blake's buttocks. He whispered, "You can have them once we get back and see for yourself." _Bad idea, bad, bad idea._ Avon's cock lifted his skirt even higher as he imagined Blake in black stockings.

Blake was silent for a moment, then laughed softly. "But I wouldn't look as lovely as you do. Would you like me to pull up that pretty dress of yours and help you with your problem?"

In a harsh whisper, Avon said, "Bloody tease," even as he pulled at Blake, heading for that invitingly dark, tantalizingly private, room.

Blake pressed his body against Avon's. "Who says I'm teasing?"

Avon moved them bodily into the room and kicked the door shut. He found a light switch and verified the room was vacant ...no, actually, that was what he thought would happen. The light revealed Servalan sitting on a bed, fully dressed, legs spread wide with her husband-to-be kneeling between her legs, showing off his skillful tongue. Servalan called out, "Oh, don't go, darlings." She waved languidly at the bed. "Join us." Her voice went steely which was amazing considering what her pet was doing. "That's an order."

"No thank you." Blake gripped Avon's arm, tightly. "We prefer private accommodations."

Avon abruptly dimmed the lights, preparatory to fleeing. Servalan's throaty laugh stopped him. "Afraid I'll report you to the authorities, darlings? I _am_ the authorities. I can have guards here in an instant." Her hand moved, barely visible in the darkness, holding some small object. "Which shall it be, scream with pleasure or with pain?" She continued without pause, obviously expecting to be obeyed. "Leave the lights as they are, I don't care to see you, so few people are worth looking at these days...but I would like to hear you fuck that sweet, shy thing into the mattress beside me. It's a very big bed, there's plenty of room." 

Blake hesitated, then sighed. "As you wish." He pulled Avon gently towards the bed.

Servalan hadn't recognized Blake's voice, but Avon greatly doubted his ability to fake a female tone convincingly. Silently he went with Blake to the bed, tremendously annoyed at his perverse cock which was delirious with joy and stretching Avon's girdle to its limit. The compression further added to his excitement. _Pressure... I always did respond to pressure._

Blake whispered to Avon, loud enough for Servalan to hear. "It's all right, sweetness, there's no need to be nervous. We can keep our clothes on while we fuck." He pulled Avon into a hug and rubbed up against him. "Maybe we can try something new. I've never taken you from behind. I'm sure our hostess would love to hear you try to muffle your moans into the pillow while I fuck your tight little arse."

Avon gasped wordlessly and ran his hand the length of Blake's cock. _Oh...yes....but the sadistic bitch would probably refuse us any lube... then again, who needs it?_ He dropped to his knees and opened Blake's trousers, mouth watering.

Blake knocked Avon's little black hat from his head and ran his fingers through Avon's hair. "Yes, go on. Get me ready with your mouth. I know how much you love cock."

 _You have no idea._ Avon leant forward to gently tongue the slit, then placed a series of demure, nearly dry-mouthed, kisses along the shaft until he could almost feel Blake's irritation. He took a deep breath, noticing again the pull and scratch of the lacy brassiere, and swallowed Blake's cock whole.

Servalan chuckled at Blake's half-scream. "That's a clever girl."

Panting, Blake replied, "Yes, very clever." He clenched his fists in Avon's hair, holding him still, and began to fuck his mouth. "Get me wet... _girl_. Maybe I should have let you wear the bright red lipstick after all."

Avon shut his eyes and imagined his lips, scarlet and sliding over Blake's cock, smearing colour along its length. He moaned and swallowed, urging Blake to grow even harder and longer, wanting more pressure down his throat.

Blake whispered harshly whilst thrusting deeply into Avon's mouth. "You pretend to be a good girl, but you aren't. I bet you're ha-- you're dripping wet, imagining yourself flat on your stomach, your dress flipped up and my cock sliding in and out of you. You're not a good girl at all."

Relaxing his throat muscles, Avon relished the strength of Blake's thrusts, the softness of his balls against Avon's lips as they momentarily pressed, then pulled back, sticking slightly to the lipstick. Avon sucked harder, wrapping his lips tightly about Blake's cock, reaching his hands up to Blake's hips to steady them both.

"Good girls are boring, my dears." Servalan had her legs wrapped around her pet's shoulders, rocking as he attempted to please her, but her attention was on the dimly seen pair on the other side of the bed. "Oh!" She looked down, startled, and stroked the head between her legs. "And so are good boys..."

"Yes, they are." Blake pulled his cock free of Avon's mouth. "I'm wet enough." He reached down to trace Avon's lipstick-smeared mouth. "Are you wet, sweetheart? Are you ready for me to fuck you? If you are, get on the bed."

In answer, Avon kicked off his shoes and climbed on the bed. At the moment he was glad he hadn't put on y-fronts. The thing holding up his stockings is a nuisance, but it was a crotchless nuisance. His cock had burrowed a snug little tunnel in the fabric and the sensation was arousing enough to make up for the lack of movement. _I expect Blake to make up for that lack in the end..._ Avon groaned again, wishing randyness didn't turn him into a punster.

Breathing harshly, Blake got onto the bed and straddled Avon's legs. He ran his hands up Avon's thighs, fingers investigating the play of muscle beneath the silk, until he cupped Avon's arsecheeks. "No panties? My, my, you were sure of yourself, weren't you?"

Avon put his head down and bit into the pillow to prevent himself replying. He spread his legs in invitation, hoping Blake could figure the ins and outs... _sigh..._ of the garment Avon was wearing.

Servalan was breathing faster, too. She was lying on her back across the bed now, still holding her hapless mate to her groin (Avon thought fleetingly of black widow spiders) and reached out to play with Avon's hair. The skin crawled on the back of his neck, the danger making him even harder and hungrier for sensation. 

Blake slowly lifted the back of the dress, until Avon's arse was exposed. Then he unclipped the fastenings from the stockings and pushed up the bit of cloth, brushing his fingers against Avon's arse. He turned to Servalan and said, "You'll have to forgive her, she's very shy. Aren't you, sweetness?" He ran a finger between Avon's cheeks. "But if you want to hear her moan, I have the perfect solution." Blake parted Avon's arsecheeks and leaned forward, gently licking his opening.

Avon whimpered high in his nose and bit down on the pillow, arching his back as Blake's tongue swept, warm and wet, over his arsehole.

Servalan giggled and stroked Avon's hair. "What a delightful couple. You must attend all my parties."

 _'Servalan's balls'?_ Avon barely stifled a giggle of his own. With Servalan's hand on him, Blake's tongue on him and danger all around, Avon was so excited that his cock was soaking the fabric around it with pre-come.

Blake looked up and grinned at Servalan. "We'd love to." Then he ducked his head back down, and circled Avon's hole slowly, before wiggling the tip into him, and undulating his tongue.

Avon let out a squeak of surprise. He hadn't expected this much adventurousness from Blake. _Should have known better...rebel to the core._ He could feel his arse opening to Blake, greedy for more. He moaned into the pillow and rotated his backside in invitation.

"Ooh, yes... I like that, too."Servalan abruptly got on her hands and knees. "Kiss my arse, Jarriere."

As Blake worked his tongue into Avon's arse, he slipped his hand between Avon's thighs, fingering Avon's balls before pushing his hand underneath to grip cock.

Avon's whimpering took on an even higher pitch when Blake started fondling him. He arched his back into a nearly painful angle, needing to feel the pressure within as well as without.

Blake gave Avon's hole one final kiss and stretched out on top of him, pressing his hard, dripping cock against Avon's arse. "I'm going to fuck you now." He positioned his cock and slowly entered Avon. "I'm going to make you moan and scream and beg."

"Oh. Ooh," Avon panted and tried to push back onto Blake's cock.

Servalan was moaning herself, head pillowed on crossed arms as she watched them while Jarriere licked and kissed her arse.

Blake murmured into Avon's ear as he slowly pumped into him. "You like that, don't you, sweetness? You like my cock sliding in and out of your arse, filling you up. I'm going to come inside of you and when you stand up, it's going to drip down your leg and soak into your stockings. Everyone will know I fucked you. They'll see your smeared make-up, the wrinkled dress, the ruined stockings, and they'll know."

Avon moaned and deliberately squeezed his arse tight around Blake's cock.

Servalan abruptly turned around, grabbed Jarriere and forced him flat on the bed, mounting his cock and grinding against him. Jarriere was still remarkably silent, obeying Servalan's commands like a robot. Avon wondered fleetingly if she was bonding with a sex-droid, then Blake pushed in further and Avon stopped thinking about Servalan.

Avon squeezed his cock and Blake began thrusting in and out, hard, shoving Avon into the mattress. "You're so tight. Fuck! You feel like a virgin." He bit the back of Avon's neck.

Avon groaned happily, having finally got his way with Blake, and ground his cock against the sheets, loving the force of it, Blake's weight pinning him to the bed, Blake's thick cock forcing him open. He cried out sharply when he felt teeth on his neck and reached out blindly. His hand landed on Servalan's thigh and he tightened his grip for an instant, then realized what he was doing and let go. Servalan snatched up his hand and put it back on her thigh.

Blake pulled out so that only the tip of his cock rested in Avon's body, then in one rough thrust, shoved back in. He repeated the movement, over and over. He whispered harshly, "Am I not enough for you? Do you want her too? Do you want to bury your face between her thighs while I fuck you? Is that what you want?"

Avon cried out and yanked his hand away despite Servalan digging her nails into his wrist. He reached up and back to grasp Blake's arm and whispered in as high a pitch as he could, "No, only you."

"Monogamy," Servalan gasped. "How quaint." Servalan was using Jarriere roughly and he'd finally begun making noise; little breathy gasps.

Blake whispered, "Yes, monogamy." He rode Avon faster and harder. "Are you almost ready to come for me, sweetness?" He leaned forward, kissing Avon's ear. "Is my... _girl_ ready to come?"

"Ahh... oh..." Avon gasped as Blake pounded into him, driving his aching cock into the bedding, splitting him open and filling him taut. "Oh, yessss..." Avon was close, so close, but he needed a little more... just a little.... "Oh...give it to me..."

Servalan was watching them avidly, slamming into Jarriere without glancing at the man's face.

"Yes... oh... yes..." Blake pounded ruthlessly into Avon. "After... I'm going to... to make you... walk through the party. Show everyone what a... slut you are." Blake moaned. "Couldn't wait to get home... had to have cock now. Come for me. Come for me now!"

Avon screamed, "Roj!" And came frantically, his confined cock drenching the bunched up underskirts and bedding, arse convulsing on Blake's cock still sliding in and out. 

Blake leaned forward, and bit the back of Avon's neck as he came. 

Servalan threw her head back and shouted, "Tarrant!"

Avon floated in a totally-fucked-out state of mellowness for less that a second before Blake's teeth in his neck brought him back to reality. He turned his head. Servalan was moving, reaching for something. He grabbed her arm and pulled her down.

"Avon!" Servalan twisted in his grip, and her lap-dog snarled something in an obscure accent beneath her.

"Blake! Help me!" Servalan was clawing at Avon and he was hardly in a position to defend himself.

Blake lunged forward, trying to pin down Servalan and her bedpartner with his weight. "Ouch! Damn it, she bit me!"

"Bite her back!" Avon reached down and pulled the laser probe out of his stocking and pressed it to Servalan's throat. "Stop it, or I'll burn a hole right through your skull, Servalan."

Servalan stopped fighting, but even in the dimness, Avon could see the whites of her eyes as she glared at him. The man beneath her began babbling and she snapped, "Shut up, Jarriere!"

Blake grinned. "You'll have to forgive my date, he gets upset when our cuddling is interrupted." He touched himself and hissed in pain. "I think she drew blood." He reached into his pocket for Avon's teleport bracelet. "Are you ready to leave?" 

"No. I 'd like a memento of our gracious hostess." He pushed the laser probe further into Servalan's throat. "Get the lights, Blake."

Blake rolled off of the bed and turned the lights up revealing Avon in a rumpled dress, threatening Servalan in an even more rumpled dress. "We should go. The longer we stay, the more dangerous it will be."

Avon said, "Take off my stockings."

Blake looked at him. "Avon, I really don't think this is the appropriate time for another go." 

Avon replied, "To tie them up, Blake," without taking his gaze off Servalan's face. "I want to search at least this room before we take our leave." Servalan's eyes flashed angrily, but Avon thought he saw something new; a hint of fear. "What we're after could be here."

"It would be just like her." Blake reached underneath Avon's dress and began to slide the stockings down his smoothly shaven legs, caressing Avon.

Avon grinned at Servalan. _It's nice to know nothing puts Blake off._ Avon filed the thought for future reference. "The desk? Hmm... perhaps the cabinets? Ah... you wouldn't have hidden your private terminal at your makeup table, would you?"

Servalan's eyes were steely. "You won't get..."

Avon jammed the probe slightly deeper into her soft throat. "Don't bother with threats. We haven't time to play any more games with you."

Blake finished slipping the stockings off of Avon. He reached for the headboard and gave it a shake. "I didn't think they made them like this anymore. Servalan first, I think. Put your hands above your head."

Stiff with outrage, Servalan obeyed. Once Blake had the situation under control Avon got off the bed, trying to hide a wince as muscles unaccustomed to his recent activity protested.

Blake tied both Servalan and her playmate to the headboard, double-checking to be sure they were secure. "Are you all right? I was a bit rough with you."

Avon looked back at Blake, and shifted his dress to untangle it. He grinned. "I'm a trifle out of training. A sad lack that I hope to rectify." 

Blake grinned back. "If I had known you were interested, you wouldn't have been out of practice."

"Perhaps I was too subtle." Avon turned his attention to Servalan's makeup table. He was a bit taken aback by his reflection in her mirror, but quickly located a switch that revolved the table to reveal her private computer system. "This will only take a moment." Avon accessed the files on the rebels she was blackmailing, destroyed all the evidence against them, and simultaneously sent them the signal that told them they were free of her.

Blake grinned at Servalan. "Not only does he look lovely in that dress, but he's useful too. And he's very, _very_ good in bed. And he's all mine."

Avon smiled as he finished and turned the table back into a make-up mirror. "You won't mind, Servalan, if I do a little repair work." He used her supplies to touch up his makeup and re-fluff his hair then he adjusted his bra, which had ridden up when Blake fucked him, and stood up. "Oh, one last thing." He jammed the laser probe into the computer access port and fried the works. He eyed the curl of smoke with satisfaction.

Blake laughed and pulled Avon into a tight hug. "You are wonderful, my dear."

With even more satisfaction, Avon said, "Yes, I am." He kissed Blake briefly, aiming his laser probe at Servalan who was opening her mouth and looking furious, but quickly subsided at the threat. "You know, Blake, if we gagged them, it might be days before anyone would dare interrupt Servalan in her boudoir." He grinned wickedly.

Blake raised an eyebrow. "Days? Well, the bed is very comfortable. And wouldn't it just make her angrier to see me have what she never will." He ran a finger across Avon's jaw.

The longer we stay the more dangerous it is." Avon's grin widened. "And you now know what that means to me."

"Yes, I do." Blake placed his hands on Avon's hips and began to slowly inch up the fabric of the dress.

Blake hadn't yet zipped up his trousers. Avon was pleased to note that Blake is already rising to the occasion. "Anything could happen." Avon nipped on Blake's ear. "Someone could knock on the door with an urgent message for Servalan." He fondled Blake's chest, rubbing his nipples through the shirt. "The cook could come to complain that dinner is getting cold..."

"Ah, but who's to say that this isn't one of Servalan's games. She seemed to enjoy watching us. She couldn't stop looking... or touching." Blake lifted the dress up a bit more until it was past mid-thigh.

Avon put his arms around Blake's neck, laser probe still aiming at Servalan. "Well, perhaps a quick one before we go... this makeup table's at a convenient height, and rather sturdy." That was an understatement, the thing was an antique of solid mahogany, with carved cherubs and flowers and a three-sided mirror currently reflecting the back of Avon's dress with Servalan's furious face just visible to one side. "I imagine it could well support my weight."

Blake smiled. "This dress will never be the same again." He kissed his way along Avon's jaw to his chin, then down to his neck, nibbling along the edge of the choker.

"No, it won't, will it?" Avon's free hand came around to Blake's crotch, rubbing firmly. "Quick this time. Quick and hard." He turned around and half lay on the dressing table, seeing himself and Blake, and Servalan's green eyes, tripled in the glass. "Some of Servalan's skin lotion might be nice."

Blake slathered the skin lotion onto his cock then, after pushing the dress up to Avon's waist, pressed two greasy fingers into him. Once Avon was properly prepared, Blake slowly entered. "Quick and hard?" He grabbed Avon by the waist and began rough, quick, thrusting.

Avon moaned, open-mouthed and gasping as Blake took him. He fought the impulse to shut his eyes and instead kept watching Servalan. It was obvious that she was aroused by the display. "He's..." Avon gasped. "...damn good..." He moaned. "Servalan..." Avon braced himself against the pounding, silky dress rucked up around his waist, making a fluffy black frame for his face in the mirror, eyes made huge with makeup, bright with lust. "... fuck, he's good... oh, Blake... yessss..."

"Ah! We should have... done this... ages ago." Blake slammed into Avon even harder. "Oh damn, Avon! You feel... so damn good!"

Avon laughed. "They don't ... ahhh... call me a tight-arsed bastard...oh, yes... for nothing, Blake." Makeup bottles and perfumes skittered across the table as Blake thrust so hard he was pushing and pulling Avon back and forth on the slick polished surface. Avon rose onto his toes and forced himself back onto Blake.

"Not as... tight-arsed... as I thought..." Blake cried out. "Just... tight enough! I can't... wait to get... you home. Fuck you all night." He pushed into Avon with all his strength. "Almost, Avon... almost..."

Avon groaned. Blake was pistoning in and out, his come dripping down in a warm trickle down Avon's inner thigh, Avon's cock was caressed by lace and elastic, Servalan's eyes were... "Oh! FUCK!" Avon came again, drenching his dress even further. His arse clamped down, and every voluntary muscle went taut-- including the hand holding the laser probe, which fired into the left-hand mirror, angled to the rear mirror, struck the right mirror and sent a searing blaze through Avon's fluffed-up dress, just missed Blake, proceeded across the room and set the bedding on fire between Servalan and Jarriere.

Servalan screamed, but not half as loud or as high-pitched as Jarriere did.

Blake cried out, Avon's orgasm triggering his own. He shuddered, coming happily into Avon. Unfortunately, he was unable to fully enjoy the afterglow, and instead had to pat out the glowing fire on Avon's dress. He gasped, "Next time, no laser probes." 

Avon grinned at Blake, but the screaming had attracted attention, and there was a heavy pounding on the door. His smile vanished. "Let's get out of here so we can have a next time!" He awkwardly held out his arm for his teleport bracelet, even in the urgency of the moment not wanting to dislodge Blake's cock from his arse.

Blake fumbled in his pocket for the teleport bracelet, and placed it around Avon's wrist. Then he put on his own and yelled into the communicator. "Teleport, now!"

"Wait!" Avon suddenly remembered the shoes, but it was too late; they materialized in the teleport room. Avon fell forward and barely caught himself with his hands as Blake tumbled down on top of him. " _Damn_ it!" 

"Ouch! What is it? Did we leave something behind?"

Avon lay on the deck in a sprawl of silk and considered having a good sulk. "My shoes."

Blake looked horrified for a moment, then burst into laughter. "Shoes?" He rolled onto the deck and continued laughing.

Avon got up with dignity."I liked them." He rustled his skirts and started limping for the exit.

Blake laughed even harder. "Wait! Wait! Shouldn't I... carry you... carry you off to your room?"

Avon looked back at Blake. "Only if I were wearing white." He smiled.

"That's not likely." Blake grinned. "Would you like to share a shower?"

Avon cocked his head and looked at Blake. "Yes. It'll probably take quite a while to get the reek of Servalan's perfume off me."

Blake got to his feet. "Well, I'll have to be sure to wash you thoroughly." He offered Avon his arm. "Shall we?"

Avon hesitated for the barest fraction of an instant. "Yes, I rather think we shall... repeatedly." He took Blake's arm. "You'd be astonished what you can find in the wardrobe room..."


End file.
